It is also what they received. Come, Lord Jesus. Soon. Please.
Caedmon got a Batman sword.
And Batman nunchuks. And a Batman dagger, which you can just see tucked into his belt there, which was actually one of mine, and is made of soft tan velveteen. Just like Batman would wear.
Atticus got ninja stuff.
Caedmon also got a little toy rifle, which he likes to use when wearing the paper cape his sister made him for Christmas. She even curled the end to aid in its fluttering in his wake when he runs.
|Click to embiggen, for the sake of your eyeballs.|
Our children didn't just get materials to stock our household armory; Adelaide got a much longed-for giant artist's kit, Atticus got sports stuff, and Caedmon got tools and a tool belt, and we all got the baby Jesus, plus a few miscellaneous things like much-needed warm, layering clothing and games and a harmonica. Between several sets of grandparents and great-parents and a few loving aunts and uncles (and Jesus), they're set for the year. Derek and I only ever get each of them one gift from us, and one gift from Santa. The gift from us is something they need (this year it was thick, waterproof mittens, which I know work splendidly because after wearing them indoors for several minutes Caedmon announced that "They're too hot; they make my hands slimy!").
|Atticus intent upon attaching the net to his basketball hoop.|
|Caedmon intent upon doing something with this tools. I don't know what.|
Now that we've got all this new kid stuff in our house, I get to go through and choose what we're getting rid of, which is one of the beauties of living in a house with limited storage space: Something comes in, something else must go out. I've got five grocery sacks full of toys so far. The children have come close to tears; I am gleeful. CHRISTMAS IS OVER, KIDDIES MUAHAHAHA.
On Christmas Day: